


You Made Me Live Again

by shinigami_yumi



Series: Going Slightly Mad [3]
Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Complete, Families of Choice, Hot Tub Sex, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Trust, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3520046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami_yumi/pseuds/shinigami_yumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Staying home seems like the kind of thing old lovers do. Ky has spent thirteen years in denial, but he's got nothing on Sol's hundred and seventy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Made Me Live Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wintervioleteye (hawkguyed)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkguyed/gifts).



> Here's the second of my White Day fics. Title comes from the song Now I'm Here on Sol's favourite album. Happy White Day, Lacry.
> 
>  
> 
> This is a sequel to [Interludes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3519833), which you should read first, so that where they are in their relationship makes sense. Likewise, it makes a very brief reference to an event described in [If Your God Were Real](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3388088), which you don't need to read to enjoy this.
> 
> In addition, if you have not played Guilty Gear Xrd Sign, this story contains spoilers for most of the game.

A month has passed uneventfully since the incident with Ramlethal and the attempted resurrection of Justice. They’ve been waiting on high alert, either for more news or another incident, but so far, their enemies have been silent. The reprieve is only making everyone, especially Leo, antsy.

Fascinated by Dr. Paradigm's stories, Dizzy and Sin have gone with him to visit Ganymede with the Valentines in tow. It's a well deserved holiday, Ky thinks. He’s too busy with the rest of the rebuilding efforts to leave, of course, but he's surprised Sol didn't go along. Or elsewhere.

Despite recent events, he hadn't expected Sol to stay for long. He's happy just thinking Sol will come back. The truth is, sometimes, he can’t be certain, but he’s learned to live with that — maybe too well.

They’ve managed to get most of the immediately necessary parts of the castle and its surrounding area repaired enough for use. Function takes precedence for now — they can get around to making it look like it used to later. On top of rebuilding work, political and administrative duties continue to run their course, and after three meetings back to back —the first two with leaders of other nations and the last with Leo and Vernon—, the only thing Ky wants to do is bathe and sleep.

He freezes at the door of his chambers, sensing Sol’s presence inside. It’s not entirely unexpected, but he doesn’t know if he’s up for this right now. Still, he steps inside and is greeted by—

Tobacco smoke.

He all but twitches in irritation at the sight of Sol smoking on his bed. Closing his eyes and taking a deep calming breath, he walks over to pluck the cigarette out of the other’s fingers and drop it into the empty beer bottle Sol is using as an ashtray. Sol makes a sound of annoyance, and Ky silences the part of him that’s relieved Sol didn’t think to use one of his teacups instead.

“The least you could do is not smoke _inside_ here,” he says as he picks the bottle up to get rid of it. “On the balcony, I can put up with, b—”

He gasps as Sol grabs his hand and flips him over onto the bed to pin him down bodily and glares up at mismatched eyes. “Some things really don’t change,” the other murmurs, amused now, and Ky sighs wearily — he didn’t come back here for more stress.

“I kept _my_ promise,” he mutters, and it takes half a minute for Sol to recall what he’s referring to.

“And I told you to dream on.”

He understands now why Sol told him not to worry back then, and he’s given up on getting the other to quit, but “Is it too much to ask for you not to do it in here? It’s _my_ room, Sol. Please.”

For a moment, it looks like Sol is surprised he’s asking nicely instead of arguing, but then the other shrugs. “Never got to ask — what’s with the hair? You were always so zealous about keeping it short.”

Ky huffs, resigned — this is probably the best he’s going to get out of the older man. “I keep cutting it, and it keeps growing back so quickly,” he answers, allowing the change of subject.

The prototype Gear tenses, and Ky shifts to slide off the bed. Dropping the bottle of cigarette butts into the nearest waste bin, he unties his hair and heads into the bathroom to start running a hot bath in the tub. Tossing in some bath salts, he turns to shut the door and stops.

Sol is sauntering in, jacket already discarded. As Ky stands, staring dumbfounded, he removes the tank top.

"S—Sol?"

The other grins, feral, and tilts his head towards the tub. "That looks big enough for two."

"Ah, yes..." Ky turns away to undress, fighting down a blush. He could object, of course, but... he's done lying to himself. He’d decided.

Startled, he jumps a bit when blunt fingers push his hair aside.

“As I thought, even now, it doesn't heal old scars." He represses a shiver as they trace the faded mark on his shoulder.

"No," he agrees, looking down. "I just can't get any new ones." It's as if the gunshot wounds Axus gave him never existed.

"Heh. The scarred look doesn't suit your prissy face anyway."

Sol steps into the tub, and Ky firmly tells himself that this isn't exactly new ground as he slides into the steaming water as well. It's not like they haven't bathed together before — they didn't spend all their Order days in the comfort of airships and proper quarters, after all. So he immerses himself, inhales deeply of lavender and vanilla, and lets the warm water wash his weariness away. Then Sol is pulling him close with an arm around his waist, and… it feels right.

He sighs, relaxing, resting his head on the other's shoulder. He remembers falling asleep just like this sometimes — at the height of the Crusades, war meetings were long, battles longer and rest scarce. Sometimes, he'd wake suddenly, still surrounded by reports and maps and battle plans, and once in a while, the other leaders would still be there too, also fast asleep. And occasionally, Sol would be there, right beside him, least irritating in slumber.

He tilts his head to look up. "Do you always bathe with that headband on?”

“Yes. You’ve asked before.”

He remembers, of course, but “It’s not a secret anymore.”

Sol frowns. “We had this conversation last month. The G—”

“I’ve seen you take it off and put it back on,” he interrupts. “You control it just fine.”

"What is your problem today?"

He sighs again, settling back into the loose embrace. "Pretend it's stress."

"Meaning we'll have this conversation again another day," Sol concludes flatly, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

"That’s not—mm."

He doesn't resist when the other kisses him roughly and pins him to the side of the tub, sliding between his legs. "Not stopping me, boy?" Sol asks with a smirk when they part for air.

To his surprise, Ky shakes his head, hugging him tightly. “No… I realized a while back.” A wry chuckle by his ear punctuates the whispered words. “If you’re with me on the road to hell, I can live with this.”

“Heh.”

When Kliff Undersn asked him to look out for the kid, he’ll bet the man never in a million years dreamed that this is how it’d end. _“He’s like a son to me,”_ Kliff said. _“So much like the son I lost trying to make me proud. Look out for him, old friend. Someday, he might need your help, just like I did once.”_ He hadn’t minded much till he met the teenage zealot, then he’ll confess to some resentment at being constantly assigned to Ky’s units as the prodigy rose quickly through the ranks, but…

Sometimes, Ky sounded just like her, so simple yet so perceptive.

Aria, who carved a place out for herself in a world that seemed too small.

Aria, who’d been unafraid right till the end.

In the end, he’d been the most afraid of them all.

Sometimes, he still misses her.

He doesn’t stop slender fingers from undoing the buckles, focuses on restraining the sudden rush of _KILL. BURN. DESTROY._ Ky seems so fragile in his arms suddenly, and he hates it, hates that they’re all so easy to break.

Sometimes, he can still feel her blood on his hands.

The voices shriek through his veins, but then gentle hands are combing water through his hair, and it’s as if a hush settles over them. Soft lips press to his brow, and it feels like absolution.

Ky trails kisses down to his mouth while working some shampoo through his hair — it’s the same minty honey-scented stuff he remembers from their Order days, and he marvels for a moment at all the little ways Ky hasn’t changed since he was thirteen. In some ways, the constancy is comforting. After fifteen years, many things about Ky are more amusing than irritating, but occasionally, he still finds a way to be a royal pain in the ass. Once in a while though, Sol finds he doesn’t mind.

He shifts then, reversing their positions. There are calluses on otherwise delicate fingers from years of sword fighting, and he lets himself relax as they rub circles into his scalp. When he opens his eyes, he wants to wipe that amused little smile off the boy’s face, but his scowl only makes Ky laugh.

“You’ve grown,” he says at last, flicking the boy on the nose to hide a smile. “You used to be such a miserable child.”

Ky settles into his lap and moves on to his neck. “I can’t say I had many reasons to be otherwise.”

“The old man mentioned Gears killed your parents?”

“Justice killed my parents,” Ky corrects, quiet but firm. “The rest of them didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Heh. And still you married her daughter.”

Ky reaches for the showerhead to begin rinsing the shampoo off. “We should judge people not for what they are, but for what they do.” And sometimes, with all of the sins that he shoulders, he feels unworthy of judging anyone or anything. Sometimes, there are no right answers — one can only choose the lesser evil, and who but God can truly judge? Gently, he traces the orange mark on Sol’s brow as he keeps the suds out of red eyes. “Dizzy has proven herself innocent and kind. No, if anyone is to blame, it is we humans who created Justice and weaponized Gears.”

“And if I told you Justice was once human too?”

The breath hitches in Ky’s throat. He can see the pain plainly, even though the other has turned away — Sol knew her, once. “The one behind all this,” he finds his voice at last, swallowing thickly. “You called him ‘That Man,’ the Gear Maker. He is as much my enemy as he is yours, yet I sense he will be a far more difficult one to deal with than even the Conclave.”

Red eyes flash dangerously up at him. “Stay out of this, boy.”

Ky sighs, setting the showerhead back in its holder. “I watched his part in our attack on the Cradle. Even if I continue to refine my skills, I doubt fighting him is within my power. Still, in whatever way I can, let me help you.”

“Ky—”

“I’m too far in this to stay out of it, Sol.”

Sol frowns — Ky has always been a stubborn idiot. “Be logical. Think of y—”

“I am.” Ky presses close, and it’s almost instinct to cradle him closer, to let him bury his face in Sol’s neck. Sol tries to hate it. “My position, my family, my kingdom — I’m thinking of them all. It involves the Backyard; it involves us all. I cannot turn away, Sol. Let me help you.”

Sol tangles his fingers in soft hair. Sometimes, it feels like he’s watched Ky die before, in his arms, these flaxen strands matted with blood — something out of a distant nightmare. Fragile, he thinks again, mortal. Or perhaps not anymore. He doesn’t want to find out.

 _KILL. BURN. DESTROY._ The voices are back again, and he wants to keep Ky away. _Safe._ But Ky breathes his name, pleading almost, takes his face in both hands to kiss him, moaning into it as their hips align, and he _wants._

Sometimes, he forgets how long it’s really been, and he wonders how long Ky has wanted this. Ky’s feelings have been transparent for years, of course, but sex isn’t something he’d expected the devout boy to ever pursue, even after everything that’s happened. He runs his hands up the back of slender thighs; Ky doesn’t tense, but he hears the held breath.

Slowly, he thinks and huffs in fond exasperation — of course Ky is clueless. He’d probably been almost as clueless with Dizzy, and that you could at least learn the basic idea about from a science book. This is truly uncharted territory.

Sol settles for rubbing shampoo into golden hair, and Ky sighs in contentment as he returns the earlier favour, turning and leaning back to accommodate. A slight shift lines them up, and Ky makes a sound of surprise, then he’s crying out as Sol strokes him, back arching and hips bucking, head tilting back to rest on a broad shoulder.

“Ah, I— Please,” he gasps, and Sol obliges — a delicious twist that leaves him trembling at the edge.

Holding Ky flush against him, Sol presses his lips to the bared neck, scrapes his teeth over the main artery there and hates how easy it would be to sink his jaws in, how trusting Ky can be.

Just like Aria, just as beautiful, and _”You and I both… already killed her.”_

He flinches away, but Ky only laces their fingers and turns to mouth at his jaw, rocking back into him, and he groans, savouring the slide of skin on skin. Then he's pulled into a kiss, lithe body jerking as Ky cries out, spilling into the water. He deepens the kiss, exploring the recesses of the other's mouth, and moans into it as Ky turns to fist his cock roughly. He's almost— He can’t—

He turns to reach for the headband on the ledge, but the other catches his hand and pulls him into a tight hug. “It's all right," Ky whispers, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. "I'm not afraid. Let go," and the voices are quiet. "Trust me," and he does, always has — it’s easy to trust Ky. "Let go."

He buries his face in Ky's shoulder as his vision whites out, muffling the shout as he grips his lover tightly. He's missed this — the pleasure, the simplicity. He might have called Ky's name; he's glad it's unintelligible.

Ky is clinging to him still, shaky staccato breaths by his ear, and it takes too long, _too long_ for him to notice.

He recoils from the blood, from the wounds he inflicted, and feels Ky wince. This is why—

"I'm fine," Ky insists quietly, not letting go.

"Ky—"

"I got Gear cells from my wife in a similar fashion. Don't worry." As he speaks, Sol watches the wounds knit shut, and Ky stands, pulling him to his feet and draining the tub. “Stop.”

“Hn?” Their eyes meet as Ky turns the shower taps, covering them in a spray of warm water.

Ky reaches up to tap his temple lightly. “Coming to foolish conclusions. I can see it.”

“...Say that again,” he growls, glaring.

Ky sighs, rests his hands on Sol’s shoulders. He can see it now — a different answer, the reason Sol's afraid. “I won’t make the same mistake I made thirteen years ago.” All these years of asking to be let in, and it wasn’t Sol who answered — it was Dizzy. Maybe the reason his words never reached the other is because he’s never said what he really means.

“Don’t leave me.”

Sol stares — for thirteen years, Ky has been chasing after him.

_"Am I not worthy?!"_

Slightly mad, he got that right — all across the globe, one job after another; that persistent, hotheaded boy who didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

But Ky never gave up, even when Sol told him his justice is irrelevant to the truth, until it eventually became clear that it wasn’t about his ideals at all.

_”People’s real worth is displayed through our ability to help and support each other.”_

In the end, it all came down to the anger— no, hurt in a fifteen-year-old's eyes as his Commander told him to stand down and keep mum. Just months before, the kid had kissed him in a moment of delirium, and that might have been when he realized it was time to leave.

_"I'll be waiting. ... Come home."_

It’s a lot harder now that Ky is being honest, now that they’re this close to the truth.

It’s like listening to Aria all over again, telling him that she was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it, that she wouldn’t let him do anything about it.

_“Promise me you won’t be alone.”_

Sol huffs a bitter laugh as he wraps his arms around Ky, shaking his head.

_I guess a hundred and seventy years haven’t changed me much either._

 

Warm and dry now and joined in Ky’s luxurious bed, Sol buries his face in fine blond hair. Ky is humming softly, a tune that seems vaguely familiar from a long time ago, and idly tracing random shapes on the skin of his arm. Ky could be such a noisy pain in the ass, but an eternity like this doesn’t seem so bad.

“Hmph. If I’d known you made so much better company like this, I’d have tried this years ago.”

To his surprise, Ky cracks up in a beat, doubling over to grip his sides as he shakes with mirth.

Sol frowns, annoyed. “What’s so funny?”

Ky shakes his head, taking deep breaths in an attempt to stop laughing. It’s a long time before he succeeds and turns, happy smile belying the amused twinkle in blue eyes.

“I was just thinking the exact same thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks go out to...  
>  **Wintervioleteye** for the beta and V-Day gift  
>  **Meinarch** for the second opinion  
>  **Ishiwatari Daisuke** for getting me back into this fandom with Xrd Sign. *shakes fist* Damn you!!! ♥
> 
>  **You** for reading. I hope you enjoyed my return to this fandom after all these years.  
>  I appreciate any and all feedback, so please leave some~ Thanks again.


End file.
